


The Consequences of Themed Pubcrawls

by tourdefierce



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, M/M, Public Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourdefierce/pseuds/tourdefierce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know that saying, when life gives you lemons, make some lemonade? Well, this is like that. Except it goes like this: when life gives you excessive daddy!issues, make some sweet, kinky lovin'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Consequences of Themed Pubcrawls

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to agenttrojie, this fic is beta'd with the appropriate amount of commas, bears/bares/barrs and some such nonsense that matters . I hope you all enjoy this and then turn around and write me all the kinky porn in the world.

Merlin didn't work at the library because he loved it. 

But he certainly didn't hate it. 

The pay was decent, for mostly sitting around answering questions, and he had plenty of downtime to do his own revising or reading for his modules because Gaius didn't trust him to do any re-shelving after the last debacle. 

(Was it Merlin's fault that books smelled nice and made him think of his mother, which made him think of warm, sleepy afternoons on her settee with a cup of tea and the telly playing? No. So, therefore the napping wasn't his fault, either.)

Either way, working was actually quite nice. Merlin liked the hushed quiet of the library. There weren't any people shrieking about politics, waving around cutlery and sputtering milk out their mouths (Will) or a deluge of footballers drinking snakebites and hollering over the pop-pop-pop of Call of Duty 3 (Arthur and his mates, since Will had received an X-Box for Christmas). 

Tonight, Merlin was pulling a last minute night shift. Gwen had begged him to take it and it was really hard to say no to her, especially when saying yes meant baked goods for the next several weeks. (White chocolate and dried cranberries in soft, oatmeal cookies; clotted cream and raspberry scones; warm lemon and poppy seed muffins—just thinking about made Merlin's mouth water.) So instead of waiting at home for Arthur to get back (pissed out of his mind) from his footie pub crawl, Merlin was sorting through the files that had been scanned in the latest attempt to digitise the library's archives. Well, Merlin might have been at his own flat but that was unlikely. If Merlin wasn't around to pester after a night drinking with the lads, then Arthur simply drunk-dialled him repeatedly until Merlin got out from under his comfy duvet and made the trek to Arthur's. 

Spoiled brat. 

Anyway, the work at the library wasn't horrible and Gwen's reorganization wasn't difficult, simply time-consuming. 

Merlin poured himself a cup of coffee—none of that instant shit, but actually _brewed_ coffee—and sat down. Just as he was getting into the rhythm of renaming and relocating files, his mobile chimed.

**1 New Text: Arthur**
     cuming by

"No," Merlin said, a bit pitifully, scrambling to send a text to that effect in reply. 

It wasn't that Merlin was avoiding Arthur, especially since footie pub crawls guaranteed that Arthur was dressed in some ridiculously themed fancy dress, but generally drunken boyfriends were grounds for being fired. 

At least, that was the excuse Merlin was hiding behind. 

The other reason, which was _just as true_ as the fired one, made the tips of his ears go red-hot and his stomach make an awful churning motion.

**1 New Text: Arthur**
     yes have ur keycard

"Well fuck." 

See, deadlines for the both of them had left them both with little free time in the past two weeks. The last time he and Arthur spent more than ten minutes together, or had a short conversation on the phone, had ended in something that Merlin wasn't sure he was ready to talk about. 

He might never be ready.

In fact, he was thinking that if he left it long enough, Arthur would forget all about it and Merlin could live out his mortification in peace. 

Or something. 

The point was, as much as Merlin wanted to see his boyfriend, it was close to one in the morning and his workplace was not a good place for drunk Arthur and any humiliating conversations he wanted to have. 

Merlin tried to ring back, but there wasn't any answer. He sent half a dozen text messages but as the hour ticked on, he didn't have much hope. At one-thirty he entertained a brief fantasy of Arthur forgetting about his drunken text-promise and going home to pass out. 

Which was ridiculous because Arthur never forgot about Merlin. 

Annoyingly perfect, that tosser. 

At fifteen 'til two, Merlin heard footsteps. Well, something akin to footsteps. 

When Arthur rounded the corner, several things surprised Merlin: one, Arthur wasn't nearly as drunk as expected—evidenced by fairly clear eyes and walking in a straight line; two, he was dressed in what looked to be Morgana's sixth form college uniform—complete with heels.

That explained the strange footfalls. 

It was obvious that Arthur was having trouble walking in the heels, but he was making the most of it. He didn't walk like a lady, but kept his arrogant swagger, which drew attention to his long legs and trim waist. The white oxford was tucked in, a little wrinkled and probably smelled of lager, but it was tight across Arthur's stomach until it curved at his pecs. 

Where he was clearly wearing a black bra. 

Merlin blinked. 

"What?" 

Arthur only smiled and swayed the rest of the way down the hallway that led to Merlin's desk.

"I'm dressed up like a cheap porno and that's all you've to say?" 

Merlin swallowed. It was hard to think anything beyond _you're so fucking fit_ and _I'm going to get fired_ but when he tried, all he could wrap his mind around was the wobble of Arthur's ankles in those heels and the way the loosened tie, striped with Morgana's college colours, fit into the hollow where Arthur's fake breasts were. 

Okay, so yeah, Merlin’s dick was hard. What did Arthur expect? The closer he got, the more apparent it was that the skirt was entirely too short for him. His legs spilled out of the skirt, light brown hair scattered on his soft, inner thighs and leading down to his knee-high socks. If Merlin tilted his head slightly, he swore he could see the swell—

"Are you trying to look up my skirt?" 

Merlin bristled, blushing hotly and pulling his gaze away from Arthur's body to rearrange a few meaningless pieces of paper on his desk. 

"Keep your voice down," Merlin said. "And stop grinning at me." 

Arthur didn't stop grinning. Instead, he leaned forward onto Merlin's desk, showing off his non-existent cleavage. It was clearly just a black-lace bra bought in the smallest size, so that it stretched across Arthur's muscled chest and looked _fucking obscene_. Merlin wasn't sure what made him harder, the fact that Arthur was wearing a bra or the fact that he had to walk into Primark to buy it.

Despite the lack of actual tit to stare at, Merlin couldn't look away. 

"Like what you see?" Arthur was all cocky footballer, trying to squeeze his chest together and grinning at Merlin like he was the one dressed up in women's clothes. 

It was unsettling. 

"What are you doing here?" Merlin hissed when he could stop staring at the way the lace puckered against Arthur's tan chest. 

Arthur shrugged, reaching into his training bra to pull out some pink, sparkling lip gloss. He twirling it around in his fingers while Merlin gaped. 

"Had to dress up, being Captain, didn't I?" He said it casually, then he slowly applied the gloss to his lips. He wasn't perfect at it and it smudged a bit on the bow of his upper lip. "Thought you might want to see me all gussied up." 

Merlin's flush was mostly out of shame, rocketing back to the last time he and Arthur had been alone this week. Mortification sang through him and he dropped his head into his hands with a groan. 

"This can't be happening," he muttered. "Go away."

"Come on," Arthur said, voice ghosting over Merlin's ear to indicate that he had all but hauled himself over the desk. "No need to be embarrassed." 

Merlin shivered. Why did he have to do that? He always talked like he was either teasing Merlin on the football pitch or like he was the star of a low-budget porn movie. 

"We both liked it," he continued. "Fuck, Merlin, I came so hard I practically blacked out. There's nothing to be ashamed of." 

Merlin mustered enough annoyance to glare through his fingertips at Arthur's ear, which was the only thing he could see when Arthur was this close to him. 

"Arthur," he hissed. 

But when Arthur stilled, tipping his head like he was listening, Merlin could tell that the flush on Arthur's cheeks wasn't merely from drink but from the soft, subtle application of rouge. 

Oh fuck. 

Holy fuck. 

Then, because Arthur was clearly _insane_ , he leaned forward and said, "Please?"

"Arthur..." but even to his own ears, Merlin knew he wasn't fooling anyone. He was unable to think of anything but the last time he and Arthur were this close—how it had just _slipped out_ in the heat of the moment.

Arthur pulled Merlin’s hands away from his face and stared him straight in the eye. Merlin tried to tilt his head away but Arthur just squeezed his hands until Merlin's gaze was focused back on Arthur. He knew this was an out. Arthur was letting him know that he was sober enough not to push this but that he wanted to—

Merlin was already deciding to erase all the security tapes and tell Gaius there was an electrical problem. 

Because Arthur made him lose all sensible brain capacity.

Because Merlin was a pervert.

Because last week, he’d held his boyfriend's head over his lap, choking Arthur with his cock, and said, "swallow Daddy's cock, little girl" and they had both come so hard that Arthur had crawled up the bed and said, "I don't care how weird or fucked up that was because we're doing that again". 

Merlin found it hard to argue then, his humiliation pushed roughly aside when Arthur drug Merlin's hand down to Arthur's come-soaked crotch—still blissed out and _amazed_ that Arthur had come untouched from the most embarrassing words that had ever come out of Merlin's mouth. 

And here, Merlin was having a hard time arguing when Arthur smiled at him. He wasn't sleepy with an orgasm, but desire was pulled taut in the stretch of his glossed lips over his perfect teeth. He was here, dressed up like a bird, and clearly wanting. 

Merlin took a moment to admire Arthur's shamelessness. How completely unembarrassed he was about standing there, dressed up in clothes that couldn't be in his comfort zone, and admitting that he wanted this. Who was Merlin to take solace in his own cowardice, when he was faced with such beautiful bravery?

The twinkle in Arthur's eye said that he already knew they were doing this—that he had probably known from the moment he put on that uniform earlier in the night and decide to ambush Merlin—but when his lips pressed against Merlin's, his kiss was tentative. It was slick with gloss, sticky and too sweet but the hint of tongue made Merlin groan. He breathed a sigh into Arthur's mouth, tasting the plastic, strawberry taste of the shiny gloss. When Arthur pulled away, his breath trailed across Merlin's cheek, his nose nuzzling shyly.

"Please, Daddy," Arthur said, voice soft but still his own. "Daddy, please." 

Merlin was scrambling to pull Arthur over the desk before he registered the fact that this was so, so wrong. But when Arthur ended up sitting on his heels, muscles thick and full and _bulging_ underneath the pleat of the skirt—all _man_ in the most delicious way—Merlin couldn't think of anything but getting closer and possibly burying his head between those thighs. 

Their kisses were frantic and they would be, it having been a full four days since Merlin had got close enough to kiss Arthur like this, but the heat of what they were doing and fuck, _where_ they were doing it just added to the need pulsing low in Merlin's belly. 

His cardigan was pulled off his arms by Arthur, their mouths tangled together as their bodies clattered around in the small oval space behind the desk. Merlin couldn't stop himself from fucking Arthur's mouth with his tongue, dipping into every secret space and licking out that ridiculous taste of gloss until Arthur only tasted like himself and stale lager. Granted, in the process, he was sure his own mouth ended up covered in gloss, but that wasn't any concern.

"Fuck, fuck," Arthur kept muttering, his lips swollen when Merlin finally let his mouth go and started down his throat. 

It was amazing that even though Merlin knew the kink was Arthur being _his little girl_ , there was something about the manliness that pushed back—the juxtaposition of Arthur, all lean muscle and bulging testosterone that bobbed with his Adam's apple—something about Arthur specifically...

"Holy fuck," Merlin groaned out, sucking on the sharp tilt of Arthur's throat until his hair was being jerked and Arthur was bucking his skirt-clad hips up against Merlin's thigh. 

"Heels off," he struggled out with, pushing aside Arthur's tie. "Height's fucking with me." 

Arthur chuckled but seemed to agree, if all the wiggling was to be taken for trying to get his heels off. Merlin was more occupied with the sinful stretch of the black lace over Arthur's chest. The small pads of the bra were thick and soft, cotton on the inside where he stretched his hand underneath to cup at Arthur's pecs like they were breasts. 

"This is so hot," Merlin said, awed at the simple act of _cupping Arthur's imaginary tits_. 

"Yeah," Arthur was muttering. "Come on, Daddy, suck on my tits." 

Maybe it was because Arthur didn't bother to raise the octave of his voice or maybe it was the way his voice caught on the 'd' or the obscene diction of _tits_ coming out of Arthur's posh mouth—but whatever it was, it had Merlin grinding into Arthur's bare thigh and pushing the lacy black pad aside to suck at Arthur's nipple. 

"God _yes_! Fuck," Arthur said hoarsely. Merlin grinned, feeling wicked, as he sent his tongue flickering over the peaked nub between his teeth. When Arthur buried his hands in Merlin's hair, he set to suckling again, until Arthur was humping his hips forward for more friction. 

"Such a slut, aren't you?" He looked up, his chin resting on Arthur's sternum, to find Arthur nodding a bit frantically. God, it seemed so easy for Arthur to just... say whatever he wanted now—to play this game now that it was out in the open between the two of them. Last time, the words had just tumbled out of Merlin like a hushed secret. But now? He felt awkward, too turned on and way out of his depth but fuck, he wanted this so much. 

"Yeah," Arthur ghosted out. "Such a slut for you, Daddy. You have no idea." 

Merlin closed his eyes. 

"What did you do?"

Arthur rolled his hips. "Why don't you find out?" 

Bending Arthur over the desk was met with little resistance. Merlin could hear his own breath, harsh and laboured, but his sole focus was flipping the flared skirt up to reveal Arthur's pert arse. Where Merlin had expected to see grey pants or possibly an old pair of tighty-whiteys, he found none. Down the centre, snug into the crease of his arse cheeks, was a very thin string. 

Arthur was wearing the skimpiest thong known to man. 

Merlin's head was spinning. 

"Holy fucking shit," Merlin said, his finger tracing the cheeky lace. 

Arthur looked over his shoulder and grinned. "See? I'm Daddy's good little girl." 

Merlin gulped but Arthur just reached back and pulled at Merlin's hand until he stumbled forward, his hands wrapping around the trim set of Arthur’s hips. His hard cock pressed into Arthur's arse, which was stimulating enough, but then his hand was being curled over Arthur's lace-clad dick and bollocks. 

It was damp with precome and Arthur's cock was hard, straining the too-small fabric, causing his cock head to peek out the top.

"See," Arthur said, voice breathy. "You make me so _wet_ , Daddy." 

Merlin moaned, burying his face in Arthur's neck. This was so good. And it would be even better if he could fucking participate. He took a deep breath, smelling the sweet sweat of Arthur underneath his expensive cologne. 

"I do, don't I?" Merlin whispered. "I know exactly how to make you wet, baby girl." 

His voice wasn't as confident as Arthur, but he could feel Arthur's cock twitch and leak against his hand. God, he was _soaking_ the front of the lace knickers. 

Arthur moaned and his hips bucked into their tangled hands.

"D-daddy knows how to make you feel good," Merlin continued, mouth pressed into Arthur's neck so that the skin there swallowed up his shaky words. 

But Arthur must have heard him loud and clear because he arched up, body taut with arousal at Merlin's words. He keened, grinding forward into Merlin's hand and something inside of Merlin loosened up. 

This was okay. They both liked this. 

There was nothing to be ashamed about. 

"Please," Arthur said, head rolling to rest on Merlin's shoulders. "Please?" 

Merlin squeezed a little too roughly, dragging his finger over the wet tip of Arthur's lace-clad cock. "What? What do you want, Princess?" 

"Jesus, fuck—" 

Merlin gulped breath and set his teeth against Arthur's skin. He thought about what he wanted to say; how he wanted to make Arthur feel; how he felt four nights back with Arthur's mouth sealed around him, sucking at his cock like he was starving for Merlin's come.

"Want Daddy to make your pussy wet, too?" 

He paused, because maybe he had gone too far—maybe now Arthur will wrinkle his nose or laugh—but instead, Arthur made a ragged, wet noise and _whimpered_. 

"Is that all right?" Merlin muttered. But Arthur was already frantically nodding his head. "Tell me what you want me to do, baby girl?" 

Merlin twisted his head so he could watch Arthur lick his lips, swallowing a few times before he opened his eyes and said, "make my pussy wet, Daddy, please fuck my pussy". 

There wasn't enough time or space inside Merlin's head to figure out if Arthur had brought lube. Instead, he pushed Arthur off of him and bent him back over the desk, a little too forceful if the 'oof' from Arthur was anything to go by but Merlin was on his knees and pushing the tiny string out of the way for his tongue before Arthur could voice any complaint. 

"Jesus, fuckin' Christ," he shouted, hand banging on the desk and shoving back onto the sloppy fuck of Merlin's tongue. 

Merlin didn't take his time, because they weren't at home, they were in the middle of Merlin's workplace. But he was as thorough as possible, laving over the dusty pink pucker and wiggling his tongue inside to get as much spit into the equation as possible. When he stood back up, slipping one finger to push inside of Arthur's clenching hole, he was more than wet enough to take Merlin to the second knuckle. 

"You wet enough, little girl?" Merlin whispered, bent over Arthur's back as he worked at the zip of his trousers. "Wet enough from where I ate out your pussy?"

Arthur groaned, "Oh fuck that's good,” and ground back, neck flushing red hot underneath Merlin's gaze.

He needed to be inside Arthur so very badly.

"Please, Daddy," Arthur cried out, breathy but still distinctly _Arthur_ , "please fuck me". 

"I already am," Merlin countered, pushing a second finger into him watching him buck back—frustrated and desperate. "I'm fucking your pretty little cunt with my fingers." 

"Jesus—your mouth—fuck, fuck." 

Merlin smirked, feeling slightly above his arousal in the moment. More than Arthur, who was a _hot mess_ , writhing on Merlin's fingers and thrashing about like a tantrum was going to get him any nearer to being fucked. 

"You've got to tell me want you want, little girl. Come on now." 

Arthur moaned and Merlin pressed his advantage, keeping the pressure on Arthur's prostate until Arthur sobbed, a little choked and still arrogant even this far gone. 

"Tell Daddy exactly what you want, Princess." 

That did it. 

"Fuck me, Daddy," Arthur said, forceful but a little slurred with pleasure. "Fuck my pussy with your cock. I need it—fuck, please, please, _Daddy_!" 

"Oh God." 

If he thought they were graceless before—Merlin's wrinkled khaki trousers were pulled to his knees as he frantically scrambled to pull down his pants without hurting his positively aching dick, doing it all one handed as every time he tried to remove his fingers, Arthur whined _Daddy_ like Merlin was physically hurting him if he wasn't fucking him in some manner. Arthur had completely lost any semblance of shame and was muttering "come on, fuck me, come on, come on," while he clumsily stroked himself through the scrappy lace of his panties.

When Merlin finally got himself sorted he pushed Arthur down with a broad hand between his shoulderblades, until his legs were forced wider apart to account for the balance of his arse being so high in the air. 

"So wet," Merlin muttered, pulling out his fingers with a sloppy sound. Arthur keened softly as his hole gaped, like it missed the pressure of Merlin's fingers. He guided the head of his dick there—where Arthur was slick and open for him. He rubbed the slit of his cock there and watched as his own precome bubbled up to add to the drenched line of Arthur's arse. 

"Sweet Jesus. You're such a _pretty thing_." 

He couldn't help but watch, pulling Arthur wide with the thickness of his thumb and feeding just the bulky head of his cock into Arthur's hole. Greedily, it swallowed him up and Merlin moaned, fascinated, as he pulled back to watch his cock pop out of Arthur with a slippery sound. 

"Fuck, Merlin," Arthur panted, his hands clawing at the papers on Merlin's desk. "Stop teasing." 

Merlin closed his eyes to get his bearings before he opened them back up and continued to pop the head of his cock in and out of Arthur. It was so _hot_ and the pressure was unbelievably good, just there where the ring of muscles clung to him and spasmed—bereft—when he left. 

"Such a greedily little girl," Merlin panted, voice unsteady. "Swallowing up my dick—so wet for me."

"Fuck! God," Arthur moaned. 

Merlin waited as long as he could, feeding precome into Arthur's hole to help add to the wetness his tongue had put there, but no matter what, he knew it wasn't going to be entirely comfortable. 

He wasn't sure Arthur gave a fuck at that point. 

"Merlin, please," Arthur whined, bucking back on the head of Merlin's cock. "Give it to me. Please, Daddy, I need it—need you to fuck me." 

"Do you, baby?" Merlin whispered, feeling a little of his self-consciousness creep back. "Keep talking, Arthur. Tell me—" 

But Arthur was running over him with his mouth, thrashing his head back and forth in his arms and whimpering. "Daddy, please, please fuck your little girl. Please, _please_ I need it. Fuck my pussy—fuckfuck." 

Merlin pushed into Arthur until his balls slapped against Arthur's and the strangled moan that came out of Arthur stuttered to a whimper. He was tight and there wasn't enough wetness but it was so fucking good. Merlin hunched over, pleasure curling tight in his stomach as he rocked into Arthur. He settled his forehead on the stiff plane of Arthur's back, one hand going to Arthur's shoulder where he could feel the strap of his bra and the other went to his hip. 

"All right?" 

Arthur groaned. "Yeah, yeah—fuck, that's really tight." 

"Too tight?" 

"No! No, it's just, shit, you feel huge," Arthur cursed. They stayed still, with Merlin rocking inside of him with tiny tilts of his hips and Arthur panting until he moaned, chuckling a little before he said, "Never had a cock as big as yours, Daddy. Never been so full and it's so good." 

"Yeah?" 

He could hear practically hear Arthur smile. "I want it hard, Daddy. I want you to fuck me full of your come—until it's dripping down my thighs and oh, fuck—I come all in my panties." 

It wasn't as if Merlin could resist that. 

When he pulled back, Arthur moaned into the next thrust. His spine went liquid with pleasure as Merlin thrust back into him, forcing his way into the tight ring of Arthur's muscles. 

"God, yeah, fuck," Arthur muttered, shoving himself back harder until Merlin was slamming Arthur back onto his cock. "Give it to me, Daddy—fuck yeah, more, harder, harder—"

Here, with his cock buried deep into Arthur, it was like Merlin's mouth could finally run away with him without his mind interfering.

"Such a good girl for Daddy," he grunted, his hips jackknifing into Arthur so hard that the desk was rocking a bit. "Slutty for my cock—"

"Yes, fuck— _daddy_ —"

Merlin was going to come. The pleasure was white at the base of his spine and crushing. 

"You're so good for me. Daddy's little girl so stuffed full of cock—god, fuck yeah, sit on it like you need it—fuck, Arthur," Merlin babbled, his rhythm shot as he rammed into Arthur's body. "Fuck, I'm gonna," he whispered. "Arthur, I'm going to—"

"Yeah, me too. Come on, Daddy. Give it to me," Arthur moaned, wanton and ridiculous and mind-blowingly hot.

Merlin barely had time to reach down to cover Arthur's hand against his cock before he was coming. He spilt in swift jerks of his hips, riding his orgasm out in the overwhelming heat of Arthur's arse—the slick of his come making Arthur sloppy and easy to drill into. 

"Oh, oh, thank you, Daddy, thank you," Merlin heard, his mind short-circuited as Arthur came in his palm with breathy sounds that seemed as they were being punched out of him.

Merlin was still pumping his hips, cock jerking lazily, as he felt the hot trickle of Arthur's come down his palm and completely drenching the lacy fabric that covered the base of his cock. Merlin tried to shove it down as he stroked Arthur through his orgasm, his arse clenching around Merlin's sensitive cock and _his fucking mouth_ still running a steady stream of blissed-out filth. 

"Oh Daddy, so good, thank you. Fuckfuck, that's good, fuck yeah, Daddy, so good to me. Thank you, ohoh, thank you, Daddy." 

Merlin groaned, squeezing at Arthur's cock until he shut his stupid, pretty mouth. They were both heaving breath into their lungs and Arthur was moaning, his cock streaming sticky fluid between Merlin's fingers and down the back of his hand. 

He pulled his hand away, moving to clutch at Arthur's waist as his softening cock slipped out, making a truly disgusting squelching noise. 

"Fuck," Merlin said. "Holy fuck," he repeated, pressing his face into the damp breadth of Arthur's back. "I can't believe we just did that." 

Arthur huffed out a laugh. "We are seriously sick bastards." 

"We?" Merlin muttered. "You were _thanking me_!" 

Arthur chuckled. "I can feel your prick twitch against my thigh, you complete wanker, so you can't act like you didn't like it." 

Merlin felt his entire body flush again.

"I'm going to get fired," Merlin whinged into the cotton of Arthur's shirt, the clasp of his bra digging into Merlin's cheek. "I'm so beyond fired. I just had kinky sex—I mean, seriously kinky, first class _pervert sex_ with my boyfriend at work." 

There was a pause. 

"Yeah, you definitely deserve to get fired." 

It only took a few moments to work himself into a full-blown panic attack. But by the time he was about to begin hyperventilating Arthur was turning around and kissing him. Soft, firm kisses that brokered no argument. 

"Stop being a girl," Arthur said, smiling, when they pulled apart. 

"Stop being a misogynist." 

"Tell that to my pussy that you just reamed, you filthy-mouthed bastard." 

Merlin blushed and shoved his face into Arthur's chest. "Oh my god, Arthur. Shut up." 

"You like it." 

"I hate it," Merlin muttered, nuzzling into the uncomfortable line of Arthur's bra and humming when Arthur's fingers combed through his hair. "Hate you too. You—corruptor." 

"Liar," Arthur replied but he didn't stop combing through Merlin's hair or rubbing his hand up and down Merlin's back. 

God, he could fall asleep like this, slumped against Arthur with his trousers and pants around his ankles.

How unprofessional. 

"Come on," Arthur said after a few moments. "Let's get marginally cleaned up, because I think my sensitive skin is about to rash—"

"Princess."

Arthur pinched his right ear. "And then we'll clear those tapes, yeah?" 

"You'll stay?" 

"No, I just came here to use you for your body and now I'm going to go home," Arthur said, deadpan. 

Merlin smiled. 

The kiss that followed was easy, mouths lazy and tongues gentle. Hilariously, Merlin found himself appreciating Arthur's surprise trip for this most of all—the confirmation that even if he was a right kinky bastard, he was not _alone_. In fact, he would probably never be alone. 

When they broke apart, Arthur was smiling that quietly confident smile that made Merlin's knees weak. It wasn't like the arrogant smile that he showed everyone else. This one was different; softer and private—like he couldn't believe his luck but that he wasn't going to let that stop him from enjoying what was his. 

"You're amazing," Merlin said, trying not to purr in contentment when Arthur immediately went to rubbing at his ears again. Then he frowned. "Don't let it go to your head." 

Arthur cocked an eyebrow and leaned in until their lips were barely touching. 

"Don't worry," he said, "I promise to let you take me down a peg every once in a while." 

"Yeah?" 

"Definitely... _Daddy_."


End file.
